


Cherry Blossoms

by OccasionalStorytelling



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gaang (Avatar) as Family, Hanahaki Disease, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Zuko (Avatar) Angst, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, katara and aang can't make tea, sokka is a master detective, zuko angst coma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24883264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalStorytelling/pseuds/OccasionalStorytelling
Summary: For as long as Zuko can remember, he's had the flowers in his lungs. He's kept them secret from everyone but his closest family, which hasn't always been easy, but he's had no other choice--the flowers are a sign of weakness. His father was sure he wouldn't survive long, but he's made it to 16, and he's joined Team Avatar. However, old habits die hard--can he still keep the flowers secret from them now that he's living with them?One day is particularly worse than the others. Zuko has a flare-up.Important notes: it's complete! it has a HAPPY ending! nobody dies! I was trying to use the concept of "flowers for unrequited love" without getting bogged down in crying about being forever alone. I repeat: HAPPY ENDING
Comments: 50
Kudos: 805





	Cherry Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> content warnings: ozai is an abusive father and zuko thinks about his childhood/has nightmares about it. there is lots of blood and a little bit of vomit, but I don't think it's overly graphic. implied suicidal ideation

_“Mom!” Zuko coughed as he ran to his mother._

_“Cover your mouth when you—Zuko?” She knelt next to him. There was a flower petal on his lower lip._

_“Look, Mom! Isn’t it *cough* isn’t it pretty?” Zuko coughed into his sleeve, and held it up to show her. A tiny, perfectly formed cherry blossom. “Where did it come from?”_

Zuko woke up coughing. Once again, he was grateful he slept so far from the others on Team Avatar, but he figured Toph could probably feel that he was awake now. He rubbed his mouth, where some petals were still stuck to him. He plucked them off, and swept up the cherry blossoms that had collected on his pillow overnight. He inspected one that was more of a red color, but it turned out to be pigment rather than blood. Zuko relaxed, jut slightly. He hadn’t had bloody flowers since he’d joined Team Avatar, and he didn’t know how he was going to keep it from them once the blood came back.

He’d had the flowers for as long as he could remember. His father had once said that Zuko was lucky to still be alive. Azula had once suggested that Ozai would kill Zuko before the flowers could, to make sure that Zuko would have a proper death for a fire nation prince. But the flowers never killed him. At least, they hadn’t yet.

It was the best-kept fire nation secret, Zuko assumed. He’d been carefully instructed to keep it secret, and he’d been hidden away when it got particularly bad. He only saw a doctor during extreme emergencies, and it was never the same one twice. Zuko later found out that anyone who treated him was executed, so he began training himself to treat his own injuries. He spent a lot of time in the garden, because his cherry blossoms could be easily confused with natural flowers when they weren’t bloody, which was most of the time.

He’d kept it secret from an entire country for his whole life. Surely, Team Avatar would never have to know. He burned the little pile of petals he’d collected and got dressed.

Once, he found an old scroll in the library that someone had misfiled. It told the story of others who had flowers, people from all of the nations. They all got their flowers when they fell in unrequited love as young adults, but Zuko thought he’d been born with his flowers. The people in the stories didn’t live very long once the first petal appeared. It had been years, and Zuko was still alive.

When he and Azula were little, they practiced fire bending together (at first, before she outpaced him and Father had gotten her a private tutor). She easily mastered form after form while Zuko would be forced to sit on the sidelines out of breath. Azula knew better than to mention the flowers in front of an outsider, but she would tease Zuko about it mercilessly when they were alone. She used to say there wasn’t anything in his chest but flowers, and that was why he was so weak. She used to say his head was full of flowers too, and that was why he didn’t have any brains.

After Zuko was banished, Iroh taught Zuko a fire bending trick. Well, Iroh invented it, and they practiced together. If Zuko performed his breath of fire in a certain way, he could burn up most of the flowers in his throat before anyone saw them. It was easier for the crew to believe that the prince was an angry hothead (which he was) who couldn’t control his fire bending than it was to let them in on the secret. That was when Zuko got into the habit of burning the flowers in the morning—previously, he’d flush them, but they would leave a trail in the water behind the ship.

Zuko missed Uncle Iroh so much. It felt like he could breathe easier when his uncle was around, as if the flowers were actually going to clear out of his lungs forever. It was a nice dream, even though it never came true. And since Iroh knew about the flowers, it was so much easier to talk to him. Iroh would say, “Good morning, Prince Zuko! How did you sleep?” And Zuko would know what he meant, and say “Just a handful last night,” and Iroh would smile and offer to make tea.

Around Team Avatar, someone would say “Hey Zuko! How did you sleep?” and he would force a smile and say that he’d slept fine, thank you. He liked being with them, and he trusted them almost more than he’d trusted Mai and Ty Lee, but those interactions always felt like the same bullshit small talk he had to do as a “proper” fire prince. Sometimes he wished that they would find out about the flowers, but he never imagined telling them. It was unthinkable, to show weakness like that, especially to someone not even in the fire nation?

He knew that was his father’s opinion, not his own, but he still couldn’t shake it.

Team Avatar liked having breakfast together, Zuko had been informed by Katara, so Zuko waited until everyone else woke up to eat. He practiced some basic fire bending forms until they were all awake, and then he set up a campfire and cooked some of their leftover fish. He also prepared some tea, just how Uncle Iroh liked it. He smiled to himself, because the tea tasted like shit, but it was just tolerable enough for Iroh to pretend it was good and praise Zuko for doing his best. Team Avatar pretended to like it too, so Zuko made it every morning and pretended to himself that it was useful.

“Good morning, Zuko. How’d you sleep?” Katara asked, joining him at the campfire.

“I slept well, thank you,” Zuko said. He hoped his fake smile didn’t look too much like a grimace. He shook his head. “How about you?”

“I had another dream about my mother,” Katara sighed. “I woke up and I just felt…horrible.”

“Tea?” Zuko offered.

“Thanks,” Katara said. She sipped it carefully. “Ooh. It’s hot.”

“That’s the only good thing about it,” Zuko said.

“What was that?” Katara looked up.

“Nothing.” Zuko scratched the back of his head. “Any plans for today?”

“Well, we have to talk to Aang about our plan, I guess. It just seems like there isn’t any other way to—I mean—“ Katara fumbled over her words. Zuko felt petals in the back of his throat.

“You mean that Aang has to kill my father,” Zuko said. It came out scratchier than he wanted it to, but it came out without any flowers.

“How are you feeling?” Katara asked. She did that weird thing with her face that she did sometimes, the sad, sympathetic smile thing.

Zuko coughed into his hand. Flower petals. He coughed once more, willing the fire to burn out the rest, so he could at least finish this conversation. “I’m fine,” he said. “Really, I am. He needs to die. After what he’s done to the world…” he wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence, but it seemed like Katara understood.

“Still. It must be tough,” she said, taking another sip of tea. Zuko coughed a few more times. He hid the petals in his sleeve, but they were coming out too quickly. He was going to need to excuse himself. How to leave without raising suspicion…

“I think I’m getting a cold,” Zuko said, standing. He walked carefully back to his room, stifling another few coughs as he passed the others. Back in his room, he brushed all the flowers off of himself and set them alight, but as he did so, he accidentally singed the end of his robes. He stomped on them to put them out and flopped back onto his sleeping mat. He was tired. Maybe he _was_ getting a cold. He’d just go back to sleep for a few minutes, and then he’d get up and be ready to face the day.

At the campfire, Sokka sat next to Katara. “Are we sure this place is safe to camp?”

“Of course,” she said. “Zuko said it’s been abandoned ever since he was little.”

“I think we might need to leave,” Sokka said. “It looks like there’s fighting not too far from here. Somebody might be following us, or knows we’re here.”

“Why do you say that?” Katara asked. “What did you find, Master Detective?” she joked.

“This,” Sokka said. He opened his hand to show Katara a cherry blossom.

“So what?” she asked. “There’s plenty of cherry trees around here. I guess the fire lord must like them or something.”

“Look closer,” Sokka said. “That’s not a cherry stain, that’s blood. There must be someone injured nearby, and I don’t want to be close to anything that could hurt someone, because that something could try to hurt _us.”_

“I guess it couldn’t hurt to look around,” Katara said. “You should take Toph, she’d be able to feel something coming.”

“Yeah,” Sokka said, stroking his chin. “I suppose she’s never been exposed to my skills as a _master_ detective, and it’s wrong of me to keep that from her. Ow!” Toph earth-bent a rock into Sokka’s butt, shoving him off of his seat. “What was that for?” Sokka yelped.

“Pfft. Master detective,” Toph laughed. She stuck her tongue out at him. “I don’t need any help from _you.”_

“To be fair,” Katara said, “you can’t see bloodstains, so—“

“What?” Toph sat up. “What are you talking about? What’s happening?”

“Probably nothing,” Sokka said, “but I found _this!”_ He brandished the petal aloft again before remembering he was talking to Toph. “I found _this_ bloody flower petal!” He finished, in a creepy voice.

Toph laughed at him. “Wow, I’m sorry Sokka! You’re right, someone who got injured on a _flower_ would _definitely_ be a threat to us.”

“Don’t laugh at me!” Sokka huffed. “My theory is that someone got injured _near_ a flower and then I happened to find the petal. I mean, _detected_ it, because I am a _master_ detective.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Toph sighed. “We should take Zuko if we’re going exploring. He knows this place better than any of us.”

“It looks like Zuko’s catching a cold,” Katara said. “He said he was fine, but from the looks of him, he’s going to spend most of the day in bed.”

“No biggie,” Sokka shrugged. “Toph and I will go, you can stay here and make sure Aang and Zuko are okay.”

“I do need to talk to Aang,” Katara said. “I think maybe it’s a conversation we need to have as a group, though.”

_Don’t get frustrated,_ Zuko thought to himself. _If you get frustrated, you’re just going to make things worse._

Seconds after deciding to try and sleep it off, Zuko sneezed, and with a soft “poof” sound the air was suddenly full of cherry blossoms. Zuko had tried collecting them, but there was so many, and the effort of moving around the room was starting to make him cough. He fire bent a whip and tried to slice some of the petals in midair, but he just succeeded in setting a curtain on fire, which he then had to put out before he could clean up the flowers. Currently, he was laying down on his mat, surrounded by flowers, trying to breathe deeply and stop coughing.

He pulled his blanket over his head and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was blessedly flower-free under it. He tucked his arms and legs all the way under it, trying to warm up. If he could just get a little bit more sleep, the cold he was fighting would go away, and he’d have better control of the flowers. And he was tired, anyway.

He wished he had another blanket. It was colder in his room than he’d realized. He felt another sneeze coming on, and rather than fight to hold it in he just stuck his head out of the blanket and let another flower poof fill the room. He tucked his face back into the blanket. He wiped a flower petal away from his nose. It was wet. Probably just saliva, though. He hadn’t had bloody flowers since he’d joined Team Avatar.

“Where’d Sokka and Toph go?” Aang asked.

“Investigating,” Katara said, holding up air quotes. “Sokka thinks there could be someone injured nearby.”

“Ohhh, is that what he was yelling about at breakfast?” Aang asked.

“Yeah,” Katara shrugged. “He found a cherry blossom with some blood on it—“

“Wait, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Aang said. “He really found a cherry blossom? Where?”

“I don’t know, I guess while he was walking to breakfast.”

“No way!” Aang said. “I mean, um, you can keep saying what you were going to say about there being blood on it. It’s just—“ he glanced at her to double check that he wasn’t being insensitive. “—there’s no cherry trees around here! And I love cherries, I really wanted to have some.”

“What do you mean?” Katara asked. “There’s one right over there.”

“No, common mistake,” Aang laughed. “It _looks_ like a cherry tree, but it doesn’t grow fruits, and the flowers look totally different up close. I’ll show you.” Aang jumped and let an air current carry him to the tree. He plucked a flower and came back with it. “You see? This petal has a fold down the middle, but a cherry blossom would be flat. Which kind did Sokka have?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t know that about the petals,” Katara said. “We can ask him to show it to us when he gets back.”

“Ohhh, did they take Zuko too? I was wondering where he was, we were going to practice a new fire bending form today.”

“No, I think Zuko has a cold,” Katara said. She smiled. “You know how he is. ‘I’m Zuko, it is dishonorable to show signs of weakness,” she said in a mock-deep voice.

“He must really be sick then if he’s not here trying to pretend he doesn’t have it. I hope he doesn’t give it to anyone else,” Aang said.

“I haven’t noticed anyone else feeling under the weather. Maybe it’s just a 24-hour thing.”

“Maybe,” Aang said, kicking some dirt. He got an excited look on his face. “Hey! We should make him some tea! It might make him feel better!”

“That’s a really good idea, Aang!” Katara said. “He’d like that. And how hard could it be?”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Sokka grumbled, hold his magnifying glass closer to the ground.

“If we’re surrounded by awesome bloodstains and evidence there’s been a fight, you’d better tell me,” Toph said.

“We’re not,” Sokka said, straightening up. “Yet.” He picked up a leaf off the ground and tried to crumble it, but the leaf was too fresh. He picked up some dirt and let it slowly fall out of his hand.

“What are you doing?” Toph asked.

“There are some petals here,” Sokka said. “Some of them are bloody, some of them aren’t. But there isn’t any blood on the ground, just like there wasn’t near the first one I found. They must be getting blown around the island by the wind. We should go upwind, to find the _true_ scene of the crime!” He finished this statement by dramatically pointing his finger in the air.

“Yeah, okay,” Toph shrugged. “This is super boring for me, y’know. I’m not feeling anyone except Aang, Katara, and Toph. If there were other people here, they’re far away.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. This, ew, this looks fresh,” Sokka said, poking another flower petal. “I can’t _wait_ to find out what happened, because currently, the evidence points to a sword fight in a cherry tree, and _that_ sounds awesome.”

“It really doesn’t,” Toph sighed. “I think you _think_ it sounds cool because you can’t bend.”

“Ouch. That hurts, Toph,” Sokka said in a flat tone. “Whatever. Let’s just start walking up-wind.”

_Zuko was watching his parents. His mom held the baby, but his father was stomping around angrily, smashing random objects around the room. The baby is ME, Zuko realized._

_“He doesn’t have that spark!” Ozai said. “I bet he’s not even a bender. What a shame, that my first born would be a non-bender.”_

_“You don’t know that,” Ursa said, hugging baby Zuko tighter. “He’ll be a fire bender, I’m sure of it.”_

_“I should throw him over the wall and be rid of him,” Ozai groaned, slamming his fist onto a table. Baby Zuko was starting to cry._

_“Don’t say that,” Ursa said. Baby Zuko’s cries were choked and gasping._

_“What’s wrong with it now?” Ozai was angry. Zuko wasn’t worried—he’d seen his father angrier._

_“I’m not sure,” Ursa said. She rocked baby Zuko back and forth, humming to him. He coughed, and a delicate cherry blossom petal poked out from between his lips._

_“What’s that?” Ozai asked._

_“I don’t know.” Ursa gently pulled on the petal and the rest of the flower emerged, tiny and pink. Baby Zuko coughed a few more times before going to sleep, breathing shuddery breaths._

_“I can’t have a weakling like this as a son,” Ozai said. His voice was dangerously low. Zuko sighed—it seemed the fire lord had always been this way. “What are YOU doing here?” Ozai said, turning to face Zuko. Zuko blinked._

_“I should have gotten rid of you when you WERE a baby, but it’s never too late!” Ozai snarled. He walked directly towards Zuko._

_“Mom?” Zuko tried to retreat but his back was against a wall. When he looked up, his mother and the baby had disappeared, it was just Ozai standing over him, larger than life, reaching down with his giant hand—_

Zuko woke up and only the first little bit of his scream came out before he doubled over, coughing. It was several minutes before he could regain composure. He looked down at his blankets. They’d gotten tangled around his legs, and there were cherry blossoms everywhere. Zuko’s vision swam as he realized that the petals were bloody. He went to pick one up and found that he was holding a complete, whole flower, with red dripped over it like a mistake on a painting. Zuko reached up to his face. His nostrils were plugged with blossom, which he quickly pulled away, and there was another whole flower under his tongue. He spat it out and tried his breath-of-fire technique. There was something stuck to the side of his face. He brushed it away, and it turned out to be (of course) more petals, stuck down with his saliva.

Zuko focused, and tried to take a deep breath. The petals caught in his throat and sent him into another coughing fit. He heard knocking at his door.

“Zuko? It’s Aang,” Aang’s voice came through. “How are you feeling?”

Zuko coughed for another two minutes before he managed to choke out the words “I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry you have a cold,” Aang said. “Can I come in?”

“No,” Zuko rasped. The room was covered in flowers, both those he hadn’t managed to clean up before he fell asleep and fresh ones. He couldn’t let Aang see him like this. He couldn’t let _anyone_ see him like this. The only person who had ever seen it when it was this bad was Uncle Iroh.

“Okay,” Aang said. “Katara and I are trying to make tea, we’ll come back with it when it’s done.”

Zuko nodded, then realized Aang couldn’t see him behind the door, and managed to say “Okay.” He heard footsteps as Aang walked away.

Zuko coughed once more, and he felt it deep in his lungs. This was bad, but technically, he’d survived worse. He’d get through this, even without Iroh’s help. He was exhausted, even though he’d only just woken up. He couldn’t guess what time it was from the sunlight through the window, but clearly he wouldn’t be fire bending with Aang today unless he could get out of bed and be healthy at this exact second. He almost attempted it, but his limbs felt like jelly. He settled for knocking his fist into his forehead a few times to berate himself for failing to be there for Aang, and tried to pull his blanket back over his head.

“He’s really coughing in there,” Aang said, coming back to the fire. “Whatever he’s got, it hit him hard.”

“I wonder how he caught it,” Katara said, “but more importantly, I wonder which leaves we’re supposed to put in the water.”

“I don’t know. All of them?” Aang helpfully suggested.

“No way, I’ve never seen Zuko use more than five at a time,” Katara said, scrunching her forehead. “But there’s way more than five kinds of leaves here. Where did he even collect them?”

“I think,” Aang said, “we don’t actually put them _in_ the water, I think we were supposed to put them on the _fire_ when we were boiling the water so that the flavor would get in.”

“I wish you’d thought of that before we boiled the water,” Katara said.

“It can’t hurt to add them now, right?” Aang picked up a leaf at random and tossed it onto the fire. It crackled into weird black smoke instantly and produced a horrible smell. “Maybe that was the wrong kind,” Aang smiled awkwardly.

“No, I think I was right the first time, I think we put them _in_ the water,” Katara said.

“Suit yourself,” Aang shrugged. “Your loss.”

“How,” Katara sighed, closing her eyes, “is this really difficult, or is it just us? Are we bad at this? I feel like I should be good at this.”

“In the Airbender temples we mostly drank fruit juice,” Aang said, “which is a lot easier to make. Hey!” He sat up. “Have we tried squeezing the leaves into the water? Maybe the juice is _inside_ the leaves!”

“We’re not doing that,” Katara said. “We can figure this out. We can do it, right?”

“Definitely!” Aang gave her a thumbs-up.

Zuko couldn’t take it. He was overheating. He’d already tossed away the blanket and removed most of his clothes, but even lying on the stone floor wasn’t enough to cool him down. He was sweating horribly. He wanted the blanket back, but he was too hot to use it. With great effort, he forced himself to his feet and staggered to the window. He’d just open it a crack, and then there would be a nice breeze in the room, and then he could get the blanket and cozy up in it and go back to sleep.

The window slammed open with unexpected force as a sudden wind gust passed by. Zuko avoided being hit in the face, and for a few moments, congratulated himself as the room seemed to cool down. But then he noticed that the loose petals were getting stirred up in the breeze, and some of them were even starting to blow out the window. Zuko wanted to scream at the universe for doing this to him, but he didn’t want to set off another coughing fit, so he settled for groaning angrily as he closed the window again. It was too hot in this room. If he had more energy he’d go outside and collect those petals before anyone could find them, but the island was full of cherry trees anyway, maybe no one would notice. And he was _exhausted._ He coughed, and he didn’t both wiping the flower away from his chin.

“These stupid winds!” Sokka yelled. “If they keep changing direction, how are we supposed to find where the petals are coming from?!?”

“I don’t know,” Toph shrugged. “You could make up a _different_ dumb idea and we could see where _that_ takes us.”

“Very funny, Toph,” Sokka grumbled. “I’d say let’s just keep walking the way we _were_ going, but at that rate, we’re just gonna end up back where we’re camping out.”

“Gosh,” Toph said. “I guess you can’t feel it, but Zuko’s really sick. He’s just kind of…flopping around on the floor or something, like he’s having a nightmare.”

“To be fair, the dude _does_ have a lot of nightmares, even when he doesn’t have a cold,” Sokka said.

“You’re telling me,” Toph said. “I’m the one who feels it; you could sleep through a platypus-bear breaking into the campsite and tap-dancing.”

“Wait!” Sokka said, holding up a hand. “Look up there!”

“You _know_ I can’t,” Toph said.

“Sorry,” Sokka blustered on, “but there’s more petals! They ARE coming from near where we set up. Whoever’s out there is close to our campsite! They could be spying on us!”

“I told you, I don’t feel anyone else anywhere nearby,” Toph said.

“Maybe they’re already dead! And that’s why they’re not moving,” Sokka said. “Or unconscious or something, I don’t know.”

“Just lead on, master detective,” Toph sighed.

“Should we ask Zuko for help?” Aang asked.

“Of course not!” Katara said. “He’s sick, that’s why were doing this for him.”

“Yeah, but maybe he could tell us how to squeeze the leaves more effectively,” Aang said. He’d crumpled his leaf beyond repair, and nothing had really come out of it.

Katara looked down at her leaf, which was also crumped. The only thing that had come out of it was green stuff, and it wasn’t tasty, _and_ she’d never seen Zuko try to juice a leaf before when _he_ made tea. “Maybe we could just ask him what to do with the leaves,” she admitted.

“Let’s do it!” Aang grabbed her hand and pulled her towards Zuko’s room.

“That’s…strange. And has horrifying implications,” Sokka said.

“ _What’s_ strange and has horrifying implications?” Toph asked.

“This is Zuko’s window, I think,” Sokka said. “The curtain’s closed, so maybe it’s not…”

“He’s on the other side of this wall, it _is_ his room, just get to the point,” Toph said, kicking some dirt around.

“There’s a bunch of bloody flower petals all over the ground, and there’s traces of blood on the windowsill,” Sokka said. “…Did _Zuko_ have a sword fight in a cherry tree and get injured? Did Zuko have a sword fight in a cherry tree and _kill_ someone???”

“I doubt it,” Toph said, “because that’s not a thing people do. But I admit I don’t like the implications of there being blood on Zuko’s windowsill.”

“I can’t see through the curtains,” Sokka grumbled.

“We could just go inside and ask him,” Toph said.

“And what if he lied to us? What if he’s not sick at all? What if he’s, I don’t know, hiding a dead body in there?” Sokka put his hands on his hips.

“Then we beat him up? I don’t know what to tell you, Sokka, he’s clearly sick, and we’ve beaten him when he was healthy and trying to kill us, so we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Fine, let’s go inside and try talking to him,” Sokka sighed.

_Zuko was on his hands and knees in front of his father. The stands were filled with people, but Zuko couldn’t tell if they were cheering or booing, or what that would mean. The sounds all ran together into a loud roar, and his father’s voice boomed louder over it anyway._

_“What a disappointment,” the fire lord said, and he was in full ceremonial dress uniform. Zuko was shirtless, preparing for the Agni Kai, but his father wasn’t even removing the metal crown from his hair. It was like Zuko wasn’t even worth a REAL Agni Kai._

_“I don’t want to fight you, father,” Zuko begged. He was crying. He felt a tear roll down his cheek and he dimly reflected that the sensation of that tear was the last thing he ever really felt on that side of his face. “Why don’t you love me?”_

_Ozai didn’t even answer, he just laughed. He reached down towards Zuko, and for a brief moment, hope shone through the clouds. His father was going to forgive him, they weren’t going to duel._

_But of course it wouldn’t go that way._

_Zuko knew this was a dream. He knew it wasn’t real. But when the fire lord held out his hand, Zuko still wanted to press up against it, for the last time that he’d ever touch his father’s hand, the last moment where he felt like even if he was nothing, at least he was noticed by his father. At least being his punching bag wasn’t being in exile._

_At the last second, Ozai pulled away. Zuko wasn’t even worth the touch that it would take to leave more serious damage. Ozai lit his hand on fire and shot a flame towards Zuko’s face, and he screamed, and flowers came out of his mouth, and everyone would know he was just a weak, pathetic little nothing, and Ozai was going to burn out Zuko’s lungs so that no one would know about the flowers and Zuko was screaming and choking and Azula was laughing and the fire lord didn’t even care enough to join her and—_

Zuko woke up and vomited. It was full of flowers, and it mixed with the flowers on the floor, and everything was flowers and shaded pink and it smelled _horrible_ and he could barely move.

_I’m going to die like this,_ Zuko thought. _Alone, and surrounded by these stupid flowers._ He coughed, and choked on yet another blossom spilling out of his mouth.

Sokka and Toph approached Zuko’s door from one side of the hallway, and Aang and Katara came from the other.

“Katara? Aang? What are you doing here?” Sokka asked.

“Checking on Zuko. Did you solve your mystery?” Katara asked.

“The blood and flowers are coming from Zuko’s room,” Toph said.

“They are? How much blood? Is he okay?” Aang’s eyes went wide.

“We don’t even know that it’s _his_ blood,” Sokka said.

“Can I see that?” Aang took one of the bloody petals out of Sokka’s grasp. He rubbed it between his index finger and thumb. “That’s a real cherry blossom, not like the trees around here. Where did it come from?”

“Zuko’s room,” Sokka pointed. As he did so, there was a horrible retching noise from inside.

“Zuko?” Katara knocked on the door. “Are you okay?”

There was no response. She knocked again, harder. “Zuko? Can you hear us?”

Again, no response. “Toph, break down the door,” Katara said, standing back.

“Okay,” Toph said. She cracked her knuckles and twisted her head side to side, and then with one fluid motion she shoved the door aside with a large rock.

The door crashed to pieces, revealing the interior of the room. Zuko usually kept his stuff neat and organized, but everything was thrown all over the place. His blanket was wadded up in a corner, and his sleeping mat was crumpled and dirty. The window was open just a crack, and the slight wind was enough to stir some of the flowers that had collected around the room. There was a thin, delicate blanket of cherry blossoms over everything, and a red stain underneath where Zuko was laying tucked in a ball, not moving.

They entered the room. Katara ran to Zuko, and flipped him so that he was lying on his back. His eyes were closed, and crusted shut with tears and eye goop. There were tiny, tiny cherry blossom flowers poking out of his nostrils, and there were three more in his mouth.

“Oh my god,” Sokka said, pulling his hair. “Zuko’s _dead!_ Did we do this?”

“He’s not dead,” Toph said.

Katara felt Zuko’s neck. “I can feel a pulse too,” she said. “I…could try healing him, but I don’t even know what’s happening to him!”

Zuko cracked open his eyelids. Someone was holding his head in their lap. He tried focusing his eyes. It hurt, but he managed. It was Katara. He hissed, and struggled to get away, but he was too weak. He reached up and pulled the flowers out of his mouth, then coughed and a few more petals escaped. He looked around the room. Aang, Toph, Sokka, and Katara, were all standing in his room, looking at the flowers, looking at _him._ “What…are you doing here,” zuko gasped.

“We came to check on you,” Katara said.

“Are you okay?” That was Sokka.

“He’s not,” Aang said, sadly. Everyone turned to look at him. Zuko closed his eyes. “I recognize this,” Aang said. “I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never seen it happen to someone.”

“What is it?” Toph asked.

“It’s Hanahaki Disease,” Aang said. His voice was somber and low, as if Zuko had already died. “When you love someone, but it’s unrequited, sometimes you get…infected. Your lungs fill up with flowers, until it eventually kills you.”

“What do we do?” Katara asked, blinking back tears.

“There’s nothing we can do. There’s no cure, unless the person starts to love him back,” Aang said.

Zuko coughed. “And they say *cough* that _I’m_ *cough* overdramatic.”

“I’m so sorry, Zuko,” Aang said. “I wish there was something I could do.”

Zuko shook his head. “That’s not what I have,” he said. He paused to cough a few more times. “I’ve had it ever since I was little. And it hasn’t killed me, so…”

There was a long silence in the room.

“It hasn’t killed me _yet,”_ Zuko amended. “This isn’t even *cough* the worst it’s ever *cough* been. It’s not going to kill me.”

“But what if it does?” Aang asked.

“What, when you find my father, you’ll force him to love me instead of murdering him?” Zuko managed to get the whole sentence out before going back into a coughing fit.

“Zuko, I—“ Aang started, but Zuko held up a hand.

“Let me talk,” Zuko said. “It’s going to take a while, because *cough* I’m trying to focus on *cough* _breathing_ right now.” Zuko closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He fished another few blooms out of his mouth and wiped at his chin. He opened his eyes, and managed to shit up out of Katara’s lap. “You guys can sit down,” Zuko said, “but…” and his eyes went glassy for a second, “I vomited. Somewhere in this room. I don’t remember where.”

Sokka, Toph, and Aang all hastily checked their feet. Katara pointed to where it was, and they skirted around it before sitting down. The petals were actually very soft, if it wasn’t impossible to get past their origin.

“I wasn’t born with it,” Zuko said, focusing on taking deep breaths. “But I loved my father, and he never loved me back, not even when I was little. Not even when _I_ thought we were happy. I’m putting the pieces together…the biggest flare-up was right after…well,” Zuko pointed to his face. “Uncle took care of me. The flowers were much bigger than this, and it was like…it was like they were rooted in me, somewhere, like you couldn’t rip them out. I was so ready to die, but Uncle just stayed next to me, telling me it was going to be okay, offering me water when I could drink it…” Zuko shrugged. “…and then it went back to normal, with tiny dry petals every so often and the occasional…” he gestured at the state of the room.

“This morning, when I said we needed to talk about Aang killing your father…” Katara looked down. “This was my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Zuko coughed. “I joined you because I know it’s my destiny to help the Avatar kill my father. He’s hurt too many people, and he’ll just keep doing it. I’m his _son_ …and look what he’s done to me. I can’t let him win. I just…” his voice got much quieter, much smaller. “I just don’t _hate_ him, okay? I’ve really tried to ignore it, but I _do_ still care what he thinks about me. And I still love him, even though he doesn’t deserve it, and even though he’ll never reciprocate it. I just do.”

“Then the Hanahaki Disease will _kill_ you,” Aang said.

“No it won’t,” Zuko said, shrugging. “I’m stronger than it. I’m more than my father’s puppet. I joined you because I’m my own person.” Zuko coughed, and another little petal drifted out of his mouth. “I’m just gonna say it. I would be dead if not for you guys. I thought…I used to think that maybe Uncle was the only person who _could_ care about me. But you’re my friends, and you worried about me, and as embarrassing as this is for you to see me like this, I don’t care. There are people who care about me. _I_ care about me. And…I’m working on myself. Maybe one day I won’t have any flowers at all.” Zuko coughed. “I’m _really_ thirsty. Katara, were you and Aang making tea, or was that also a nightmare?” Katara flushed bright red.

“We couldn’t figure out how to juice the leaves,” Aang said. “What’s your secret?”

“You put the leaves in hot water and leave them there,” Zuko said. “That’s it.”

“I told you!” Katara said.

“Then why didn’t you do it?” Aang responded. “Don’t blame this on me!”

“We’ve got water,” Katara said, and she offered Zuko her canteen. He drank almost two thirds of it before coughing up another flower petal.

“Now that you know my dark and terrible secret,” Zuko said, pointedly looking at Sokka, “I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

“Fine with me,” Sokka said, holding his hands up. “I’m just glad you didn’t murder anyone in a cherry tree.”

“I’ve done that,” Zuko said.

“Really?” Sokka’s eyes lit up.

Zuko rolled his eyes. “No. I just had part of a sword fight in a cherry tree, I didn’t actually kill her.”

“I _TOLD_ you!” Sokka pointed his finger in Toph’s face. “I _am_ a _master_ detective!”

“Zuko, if you need anything, you’ll tell us, right?” Katara asked.

“I will,” Zuko promised. He looked at his sweaty blanket balled up in the corner with the vomit. He almost didn’t ask (he figured he’d already bothered them enough forcing them to come in and check on him) but he’d just promised he would tell them if he needed anything. “…do we have any extra blankets?”

**EPILOGUE:**

When Zuko found himself face to face with Azula and knew that Ozai had made her the new successor, he really understood that Ozai would never love him, would never respect him or care for him even the tiniest bit. Azula fried him with lightning, but he managed to redirect most of it. It felt weird, like he’d gotten distracted and then the shock knocked something out of him.

He lay on the ground and twitched as the electricity coursed through him. He coughed up one tiny, beautiful, perfect, delicate, complete cherry blossom. It floated gently through the air and came to a rest next to him. It was the last flower. He would never cough up another, not even a petal. He smiled.

Katara was standing over him, saying something about how she couldn’t fix this new scar on his abdomen. He didn’t listen. It didn’t matter. For the first time in his life, he breathed easily.

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE hanahaki disease, but I HATE the "wasting away alone and unloved" part of it. I wanted to mess with the concept, so it's not unrequited ROMANTIC love but unrequited PARENT/CHILD love, and it doesn't kill him, it's like he has a chronic illness. And I wanted him to have support and friendship to rely on, and I wanted him to be able to grow and change as a person and BEAT it, you know? Give me unrequited love flowers but give them to me in a cool, badass way!


End file.
